


Purpose

by LonelyAthena



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-04
Updated: 2019-11-04
Packaged: 2021-01-22 17:47:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,547
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21306065
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LonelyAthena/pseuds/LonelyAthena
Summary: He wants to help.To be of service.But he wonders, why did it ended like that.Then she appears and he is just empty.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Kudos: 2





	Purpose

**Author's Note:**

> I apologise for all the grammar mistakes, english it's not my first language and I haven't written a story in years.  
A little conclusion I arrive while re watching the latest episode of supernatural. I will write it again later, for now I just wanted it out of my head.

He remembers.

Loneliness, despair and self-doubt.

Each day he becomes more and more human, feelings becoming harder to control.

Today, on the seventy-three day of solitude, this little boy_, Daniel,_ is looking at him with wonder in his eyes. Daniel is five years old. His family is right beside him, all surrounded by the white walls of the intensive-care unit.

Today was Thursday.

-Please, help him -. His mother said. Her eyes, he remembered, used to shine brightly with happiness and laughter when she was the same age as her child. She was one of _those._

The happiest people on earth. For a short time, at least.

He wondered. Why did his Father choose that fate for some humans? Was its part of his script? Had he always been this cruel? This unfair?

-We’ll do anything… just…Do something! - said the man by her side. Her brother, her only living relative.

Castiel just looked at both, crying like their eyes had held no joy in such a short lifetime. He could feel her hands touching his, shaking with sorrow. 

He looked past them, past the humans in the room to the reaper waiting by the child’s side. She seemed uninterested in him. Lately, they were not able to see him either.

Her hands were small, soft and so, so different from his human charge.

He could see her wonder, the hopeful glow in her soul when he presses on her fingers -. I know – he replied. Because her prayer for help was all he could hear in his head.

Even if they could not see him more than his vessel. To him, sight was no longer the same, only seeing souls in great despair and barely the shape of the human body. Even then, he was content with just seeing their eyes, the mirrors of souls were always so fascinating.

There was once a human that had the sun in his eyes, his righteous man.

Someone who no longer wanted him.

The longer he was alone, he understood it better. Why he was not wanted.

He took Daniel’s hand in his when the shadow of death got stronger over his human soul, many hours later, with only him in the room.

This will be his final act of atonement.

Grace was underestimated when it came to the act of healing, and even less when it came to the human body. Just short seconds… when the air he was breathing took longer to get into his heart, his task was done. The child was save, and so the happiness of his family.

There is a change in his vessel, it is the same as when he woke up being human. His heart shakes in contrast to his negative feelings, the sadness of not having a purpose, of not being able of helping anymore. He was an angel, a being made to serve. But now, now he there was almost no grace to heal. He had answer his last prayer. Daniel was the last of a line of forty eight he manage to save from death.

Sadly, he could not escape from himself.

Every part of grace fully given had made him more vulnerable. More fragil. More human.

Sadder, hollow and quiet. 

No angel had come across his way. No hunter either. Even when his phone had been on for three days after his departure, there had been no calls or messages.

He had wanted at least one. One to tell him he was needed. That he was loved. That he had, indeed, one family to return to. 

But no one came, no one listened. He was alone.

His brothers and sisters must hate him, the hunters found him no longer useful. And his child, his precious Jack was gone from this world. 

Little Jack who had not been alive for at least a year, was dead. Kelly's child, who shine with kindness and wonder has died by God's hand and he could do nothing. Maybe that was why he chose to save children? To return them healthy and well to their families. He could not bear the thought of a parent losing their child. Feeling the void in his heart like he was.

Blaming himself for not being enough to save him.

Even more, not being enough for _him _to love him. Did Dean hate him all along? Was he just a hammer to him? His tool? 

Had he even considered him _someone? _

_I need you._ Was that a lie? Just to stop the hits and to get the angel tablet. He doubts everything, every word, every gesture. His feelings don't find happiness in any memory anymore.

-Castiel.

He remembers the sound of the universe collapsing in creation, Gabriel use to make that sound when they were playing. When he was neither heaven’s soldier or the Winchester’s weapon.

_A broken weapon._

It’s no wonder, that when he cannot see any more than souls and sorrow, that shape is crystal clear to his vessel.

-Amara.

She looks the same, strong, omnipresence, eternal. She smiles, and he doesn’t know what to make of it.

-You seem … different.

There was mockery and shame on her voice. Was it a voice? It sounded like thunders and earthquakes combined.

-Did Chuck send you?

He wonders why his Father will take any interest in him, now that not even the protagonist of his novel had rejected him.

-No, you are the least of his problems now – she was walking towards Daniel, her being shining with the promise of destruction.

-Don’t come any closer – he warned, stopping in front of the child’s bed -. He is just a child.

Just like Jack before Chuck killed him. She is the same. A being who takes joy in killing. He will not stand by it. Not even when there is no power more than his will behind it.

She laughed -. No angel blade? How are you going to protect him if you can even summon your own weapon?

She was right. At thirty-three, his blade had vanished, together with the remnants of his left wing.

-My brother will not come Castiel, he has forgotten you.

_Had they forgotten about him as well?_ His grace tremble with want. He hopes not.

-You are doing this because of him, are you not? Saving human souls to catch his attention.

Had he been doing that? No… he wants Jacks. He did because he is an angel, to answer a prayer long forgotten.

-I want to be useful, that is all I wish -he answered. That is his true intention.

-Exchanging illness and bad omen from humans towards you, is that your way of being useful? – she mocked -. It is destroying you, child. You no longer see, smell or taste. What’s left of you to give? Where is your pride as an angel?

There is no pride in a dying angel. There is no pride when no one wants you. Not even your own father. Or the person you dedicated every day of existence to serve.

She was concerned -. Why is that to you? – he asked -. You did not create me, why are even here now?

She was destruction, the ending for the world. Chuck’s opposite. Had he been creation? If then… why did he wanted to erase his beloved humans.

-Because you are the last – she said.

\- The last of what?

Then there was no laugh, no mean smile, just a neutral expression, almost as she did not know what to say.

-The last angel on earth and heaven, Castiel.

_Castiel, brother._

They... are gone? 

His grace turns darker, dimmer with negative thoughts.

The kind of sorrow he felt when Jack was taken. Only slightly different. His body shocked with emotions as he falls to his knees.

_Why did you choose them, Castiel? We are your kin, your true family._

_You did it all to save him._

_You choose him over us. We needed you._

_And now... now you are truly alone, Castiel._

There are tears, so long hidden inside his small being.

As an angel, there was no need to confront his feelings, they were always secure, ignored.

And now, he was on the floor, looking to the blur of the wall whit the voices of his brothers and sisters echoing in his ears. There used to be angel radio, almost a soft whisper, but with a fading grace he stops listening a while back.

It was a couple of days after he left the bunker when the noise stopped, and he blamed it on himself.

He had wondered for so long.

There were tears of his eyes, running in his cheeks like the rain outside the window. It was cold, inside and out. Her heels sounded closer and then, she was there, standing in front of him.

-My brother wants to end this world, and you child, play a part in it.

His heart did not listen, he was just crying in silence to a heaven that no longer exist. Praying to hear them again.

_I am sorry, Cassy._

-When I met Dean I wondered, why were you so special? Why you shine different from all the other angels? – her hands touched his tears, he could see the universe in her eyes, but he just wanted his home. Was it right to call it home? Even if there was a heaven, they wouldn’t want him?

No one did.

Her cold fingers grabbed into his chest, into his very being, towards his broken grace. It frightened him like the day he was left behind. Cold. So scared and alone.

-I am just broken – his grace answered, scared of her power.

-It’s not just that -. She holds his face with caring, like a true mother, and maybe it is the first time he feels cared in his existence. Her power embraces him -. I am sorry for what he did to you, small child.

The he feels it. Like a tugging, a cord knocking the life of his vessel. He should have known, she was no merciful being. He grabbed on her, because even feeling the pain in every corner of Jimmy’s body, his fighting self knew better than to give up.

-Do not fight, you will only make this harder on you – she warned, her grip stronger, hotter that the flames of hell.

They were fading, his memories.

It was disappearing, his happiest moments… him.

-No… please… stop… no! – there was no strength in his body, no stopping this punishment.

His laugh, his music, the brightness of his soul.

_Why is it always seemed to be you?_

His name…

What was that human’s name…?

Why was that human so important?

-Do not take him from me…not him…

His brightness is gone.

The shining soul is lost to his memories. There is just a void.

Her hands are suddenly lost. His chest empty of grace and happier times. He feels empty.

_Broken_

-If you want Dean to live, a sacrifice must be made – she explained.

There lay an angel. The last of his kind. Just an empty shell of his greatness.

-I am sorry, Castiel, but you cannot know the true.

Suddenly, not to her surprise at least, there were back to the horrific apartment where Chuck expected her to remain. Castiel by his creator side, grasped by the hair, kneeling like a mere servant. Lost in the deepest of his own unknow sorrow.

-You are meddling in my business, sister.

Well, she did not want to prolong the inevitable. Her job had been done for now.

-Oh brother, it’s better if you return the poor thing to me. I’ve been wanting to play with him for so long -. she taunted.

Chuck tug harder on the brunette’s hair, not getting a reaction from Castiel -. Angels are my property sister, I do not like to share.

Well, there will be no more courtesy on her part -. He is the last one and I want him-. A small power shake from her fingers is all it takes, bringing the angel from his brother to her side.

-Amara! Give me Castiel back or I will not be a gentleman anymore! - he roared, his eyes flashing with the rage from ancient times.

She sighs, upset but also worried. -. You have gone insane, dear brother.

Chuck laughs in disbelief -. Is that your excuse? Stealing the only remaining angel because you are mad at me? Who is the crazy one between both of us?!

Amara might had been in captivity for too long, but he recognizes the signs. His brother has been edgy for too many days. She had decided to leave him alone for a while, and in that same while, had finally understood his real plan.

-At least I am not planning to destroy my children. Or is the other way around now? Because Sam’s bullet wound is not getting any better, Chuck.

His face pales, touching his shoulder as its to cover the greater lie.

-I know you will not stop brother, and that it’s way I’ll take your weapon with me – she said, standing in front of the angel -. He will no longer be under your influence.

Chuck advances, fury behind his eyes -. You can have him, Castiel is no more than a simple angel, I can remake Michael or any other archangel to fight these petty humans any day.

Amara smiles no longer worried about his brother -. I am sure you can, but even in your greatness, no plan of yours will work if he is nor part of it.

-He is just one simple angel.

-Really? Because his grace was all tied up with your puppet lines. Be honest with me brother, because I’ve pretended long enough. You didn’t let the Winchesters win at any point, because every moment, he was there to do your biding!

Chuck was a writer. A great one if he could say that.

He had made so many tests, so many different worlds when the story just ended in destruction and suffering, but no real ‘catch’ to it. No interesting plot. Just predictable story lines.

But then, an idea had arrived. A child of his own, with powers greater enough to impress the brightest soul, but no real freedom from his script. He created a grace with curiosity, caution, love so vast that he worried it might be too much, and last, obedience.

His creation could try to be free, but will always look for someone to obey, someone to serve. And in that bright grace, he hided his orders.

God, the all mighty, clap hands. Smiling to his heart full content at his sister.

-Finally! Someone to share the scrip with! – he exclaimed. Sharing his content of the story being revealed.

They could be alpha and omega, but Amara could no longer feel in herself the need to protect her brother any longer. There was no shame, no regret, just pure satisfaction on his face.

-He believed he had free will. All these years…

-Oh sister, no angel has free will, not even Lucifer! I only granted free will to humans, and even then, I made sure none of them could really use it against me. Castiel there – he said, pointing a finger to said angel – is no more than what I made him for, _a soldier._

** 

**Author's Note:**

> I didn't know how to finish that one so maybe I'll repost it later with a more complete idea.  
Maybe another point of view. Who knows :)


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